


life is but a dream (for the dead)

by bunnyctzen



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Animal Abuse, Animal Death, Explicit Gore, Horror, M/M, NO SEXUAL CONTENT the tag is for the Murder jfdksb, Unreliable Narrator, i swear im a nice person im sorry this is so fucked up lksdjgkl, ive just gotta get those out of the way, please dont come for me, renle is platonic, side noren ig??, this fic is kinda intense im not gonna lie pls dont click it expecting daisies and sunshine, very small amount of fluff if u squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2020-10-26 16:24:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20745197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bunnyctzen/pseuds/bunnyctzen
Summary: there's something off about huang renjun.





	life is but a dream (for the dead)

**Author's Note:**

> is this spooky or just straight fucked up??? we aren't sure!!! endless love to mod aj and all my spookfest loves!! for my clue finder octie, and all lovers of horror. i vow to write more and more until ur all sick of me and my gore and psych horror and advantageous prose.
> 
> im wub u mel thank u for ur lovely betaing uwu ♡
> 
> for real though—the tags aren't just there for show, please don't read this if you have an aversion to anything above, or a weak stomach. i've used some very spicy adjectives yall b warned
> 
> theme day: slashers and serial killers

there's something off about huang renjun. 

something has _always_ been off. 

when chenle and renjun were kids, they dug up the sand pit at school, and played archaeologist. renjun hunted for grubs, and compressed their little heads until yellowish-green gunk oozed out of their still squirming bodies. 

they found old coins, and shreds of forgotten fabric, and twigs, and rocks. more sand. 

and yet, renjun still dug. he had a fixation on what secrets could be buried below—what history lay hidden beneath the literal sands of time, and what could be unearthed by his own hand. 

when chenle was ten and renjun was twelve, he told renjun about the family cat they'd buried underneath the cherry tree out back. years had passed. the zhongs found a new furry companion to warm their home. they'd all but long forgotten the poor soul. 

_"don't you ever wonder what's left of her? what she looks like now?"_ he asked, with a dangerous spark in his gaze; eyes focused on the ground below. fingers twitching. 

chenle shook his head vehemently. he very much did _not_ spend time thinking about his late pet, or reflect on nature's stages of decomposition. in fact, he pointedly forgot that anything at all lay beneath their cherry tree, fertilizing the fruit it bore in the late spring that they consumed. the thought of it made him a little nauseous, if he was honest. 

_"have you ever thought about digging her up?"_

chenle's chest still feels tight remembering. he still can't forget what it felt like to see renjun hold the fragile skull of his dead cat. the way he studied it with absolute wonder, and ran his fingers along the rivets and crevices. the way he collected each of her teeth, and lay them along his hand flat to admire them. 

_"would your parents be mad if i took these home?"_

renjun has never changed. he's always danced to the beat of a different drum. he's always had a few screws loose. 

being a little different has never bothered renjun much, nor has he ever thought twice on only having chenle as a friend, when chenle has so many friends that aren't him. he’s always been perfectly content spending hours alone in his room dissecting grasshoppers, looking up anatomy, and testing the limits of any small creature he gets his hands on. 

when renjun is fifteen, and chenle is thirteen, renjun takes him out to the forest behind their neighbourhood park. past the trails, and along ruts in the forest floor where the river has long dried out. 

to a haphazardly constructed treehouse, of decaying particle board, large twigs, and a blue tarp. 

renjun has taken to collecting sharp things—makeshift weapons he’s found in his excavations, that he's taken home and polished and sharpened. notably, this time, it’s a rusty pair of scissors that either looks to date back to the fifties, or like it’d been abandoned a month ago in a puddle. 

renjun has a box that trembles, covered by a dirty cloth. the sounds of a struggling animal within it escape, and chenle feels as if he's swallowed a truckload of rocks. 

"you wanna see something cool?"

chenle doesn’t. he wants to go back home, and work on his math assignment that’s due tomorrow. to be eating dinner with his family, and cuddling with his dog. to play kirby on his nintendo ds. 

but chenle, who loves renjun as much as he’s wary of him, nods weakly. 

renjun's smile is blinding. 

he carefully grabs the edge of the cloth, and pulls it off to expose the creature—a squirrel, who looks to be, in all ways but literally foaming at the mouth, rabid. it’s covered in dried blood, missing an ear and half of its tail. it limps on a nub where its left front foot should be. 

its tiny cage appears to be something easily found at a dollar store, to store bugs or butterflies. clear sides with a yellow lid and ventilation. a handle, for easy transportation. 

blood streaks the sides of the plastic.

engrossed by the sight, like a plane crash, chenle only now notices that renjun holds the pair of rusted scissors as he reaches for the lid of the container. 

"don't freak out, lele, he can't feel pain."

chenle swallows. his throat feels like sandpaper. he breaks into a cold sweat. he can’t tell renjun no. 

all he can do is watch as renjun lifts the tiny creature from its prison, and clutches it with assured hands as it shrieks. 

renjun lifts the scissors. he pinches another small quivering arm to section it off from the rest of the squirrel's body. 

with the rusted tool, he encloses the tiny limb and squeezes the loops closed with a squeaky crunch. the shrill cry is sure to haunt chenle for years to come.

renjun giggles. 

chenle fights it, but still loses his lunch all over the front of his shirt. he quickly makes an excuse to return home for the night.

renjun is still a good friend, through and through. when chenle gets his heart broken, because he thinks he's in love with a boy below his year with soft cheeks and a shy smile who never looks his way, renjun comforts him. tells him that he's better than someone who worries over boys who won't give him the time of day. tells him to focus on his studies. crushes don't matter. 

renjun is still a good friend when he asks chenle to skip semi-formal with him, and drink a three quarter empty bottle of fireball that he claims he stole from his parents. they take shots of it straight from the bottle, and grimace, and complain. chenle says it tastes like hot tamales. renjun laughs. 

when renjun is seventeen, and chenle is fifteen, he discovers that renjun has a gun. 

he's looking through renjun's room for a book that he swears he misplaced last week, under sheets and along bookshelves, and in... a box under renjun's bed he swears he's never seen before. 

renjun walks in as chenle takes hold of the cold, heavy metal. 

he's quick to yank it from chenle's grasp, and tell him that he ought not to be snooping around someone else's room.

"it's not even loaded. i don't have ammo or anything." renjun justifies, and chenle nods. he believes him. renjun isn't dangerous, he's just a little off. he always has been. he has a good heart. 

renjun isn't mad, anymore. he was just a little startled, is all. it's a big secret. his mom can't know. 

he got it from his cousin. 

chenle doesn't ask about it anymore. 

when renjun is eighteen and chenle is sixteen, chenle finally asks out his underclassman. 

his name is jisung. he gives chenle thoughtful gifts. he makes chenle smile. he’s sweet on him, and chenle spends most of his free time trying to steal his kisses and soft touch. 

renjun makes use of his free time, too. 

now missing his next door neighbour, he has to quench his thirst for delight somehow. 

the lady across the street is nice. she always shared fresh cookies with the boys growing up, and has never said an unkind word about them in their lives. 

her german shepherd goes missing. 

chenle knows where it went. 

renjun asks chenle to come over in the middle of the night. chenle accepts—he always does.

he hands chenle a ring of polished cream white. chenle can’t place what kind of stone it’s made of. renjun’s nail beds are stained burgundy. 

chenle smiles politely. 

he has to go home. he told mom he’d do the dishes, and they’re still sitting in the kitchen sink. 

renjun is nineteen. chenle is seventeen. 

jisung is well on his way to be valedictorian. chenle’s grades are perfect. 

renjun has been absent. 

chenle passes it off as renjun being busy with college. it’s the first time they’ve ever been apart, and they’re still working out the kinks. renjun has projects to finish, and three hour lectures back to back to attend. chenle gets it. 

well, he pretends to get it. he convinces himself he does. 

renjun asks chenle to hang out. it’s been ages—chenle jumps at the chance to join him. 

it’s a double date. 

renjun’s brought his new boyfriend. his name is jeno. 

jeno’s eyes smile along with his mouth, and he speaks warmly. he’s quiet and careful, but chenle thinks he’s still funny. 

chenle never sees them hold hands. 

maybe they’re still kind of new at all of this. jisung is shy when it comes to pda, anyway. he gets it. the public eye makes things weird, when they’re meant for being alone. 

they eat ice cream in the park. jisung’s melts when he gets distracted telling a story; chenle laughs at him. he licks the molten dessert off of jisung’s fingers, and kisses his nose. jisung blushes. 

things are okay. 

renjun is nineteen and a half. chenle is seventeen and a quarter. 

renjun calls chenle in tears at three in the morning. jeno ended things. renjun wasn’t doing enough. he couldn’t give enough. jeno craved more. renjun couldn’t deliver. 

renjun has found bullets for his handgun. 

he’s shooting empties off of a fallen log back out in the forest, where no one can tell sounds left from right. out by the highway, where a single car passes every ten minutes at most. 

he asks chenle if he wants to try. chenle shakes his head no. 

renjun presses the pistol into his hands anyway. 

chenle can’t get the sound of gunfire out of his head—it rattles against the inside of his skull, and makes him feel sick. 

he fires three shots. he smiles, and it doesn’t meet his eyes. he tells renjun it was fun, but he didn’t want to waste ammo. 

renjun and jeno get back together. chenle doesn’t really know if it’s a good idea, but he thinks it’s nice that they’re giving each other another chance. 

it’s good for renjun, having someone like jeno. someone to balance out his highs and lows. he isn’t privy to what renjun gives him in return, because it isn’t really his business, but jeno smiles around him. he looks at renjun like he hung the moon in the sky. 

chenle decides he’s happy for them. 

renjun is on the very cusp of twenty, and chenle is almost halfway eighteen. 

it’s four in the morning, and chenle meets renjun in the woods again, but this time by the creek. 

renjun is wet all over. his hands are dark. there’s something splattered on his cheeks, and eyelids, and forehead. 

it’s dark, and chenle doesn’t want to inspect renjun by the light of his phone. he leaves that job to the moon. 

renjun is crying, and then he’s laughing, and then he’s crying again. 

he’s got a heavy bag by his feet, and it’s so wet that a puddle has formed under it. the liquid is dark and thick. 

the air smells like iron. 

“do you trust me, chenle?”

ever the fool, he does. chenle would do anything for renjun. he nods. 

renjun has a handsaw, also wet and sticky, and he’s sweating. his breath is short. the moonlight glints in his eyes. chenle can’t quite place why he’s feeling nauseous again. 

he passes chenle the handsaw. the liquid squelches around it as chenle grips the handle. 

renjun loosens the ties holding the bag shut, and chenle drops the handsaw. 

he blanches, and, for the second time, vomits all over himself immediately. 

the moonlight is faint, and it’s cut into pieces as it travels through tree branches, but the sight is unmistakable. 

jeno’s severed head stares at him, dead clouded eyes frozen in horror. 

chenle’s shaking just head rapidly, backing away. 

“no. no. _nonono_—not this, renjun.”

chenle heaves again. he wipes away more vomit with the back of his hand. 

he makes the mistake of inspecting it. it’s covered in blood. he tastes it. chenle is ready to throw up a third time, but there’s nothing left in his stomach. instead he shrieks. 

renjun is quick to charge him and cover chenle’s mouth with his hand, using his other to grab his arm and hold him in place. stop him from escaping. 

he shushes chenle, whispers in his ear. 

“everything is okay, lele. it’s just us again. like it’s always been.”

chenle is sobbing, shaking his head. struggling in renjun’s grasp. renjun’s grip around his arm is bruising. 

“i–i can’t—i can’t do this. not this time, renjun. this is too far.”

“you promised me. you promised you trusted me, chenle. you always have.”

renjun’s voice cracks. he’s a broken boy. all of his screws are loose. 

for the first time in his life, chenle is genuinely afraid of him. 

he runs. 

as fast as his legs will carry him, and in any direction that takes him as far as he can get from renjun. 

he trips, and scrapes his knee and busts the palm of his hand open, but he’s back on his feet, lungs burning as he runs for his life. 

chenle shows up at jisung’s house, offers no explanation for his appearance or the late hour, and immediately jumps into his shower. 

he curls up into a ball, still clothed, and scrubs at his skin everywhere jeno’s blood had touched him until his own flesh is bright red and broken and bleeding. 

he sobs. he can’t _stop_ sobbing.

not when jisung turns the water off, and pulls him out of the shower. not as jisung towels him dry, and changes him out of his wet clothes and into dry ones, and tucks him into his bed. not when jisung holds him so tightly that chenle thinks he’s trying to hold his broken pieces together, or when jisung whispers reassurances to him and kisses his head. 

when chenle finally falls asleep, he has terrors. 

not terrors of fictitious scenes, where he’s running from monsters that can’t hurt him, but terrors that remind him of the real one he calls his best friend. the one that he fears will. 

chenle doesn’t see renjun for a long time. 

he still checks over his shoulder when he walks alone late at night. a shell of who he was—he’s absolutely empty after what he’s seen. 

jisung’s been worried. understandably, he has been since the night all of it happened, and the tension between them has only grown since. 

chenle hasn’t told him what happened. he can’t. 

he can’t tell another soul, in fear of the images seared into his brain becoming his own reality. 

months drag on, and chenle almost starts to feel human again. he’s still submitting his assignments, and he’s wrapping up for graduation. the university of his choice reached out to him with an acceptance letter. things are moving forward, and finally, chenle is starting to follow. 

it’s renjun’s birthday. 

chenle acts like he doesn’t notice. 

jisung asks chenle where he’s been lately. says that he sort of misses him. 

chenle is unsure if he shares the sentiment. 

does he miss renjun? the renjun with a fixation on death? the renjun who tortured creatures with a twisted grin on his face?

the renjun who killed his own boyfriend, cut him up into pieces? who stuffed him in a bag, and dragged him out into the middle of the forest in the dead of the night?

he's barely stopped having nightmares about jeno’s bloodied and severed head. about cold, dead eyes that saw right into his soul. they weren’t smiling anymore. 

chenle pretends he doesn’t know a huang renjun. pretends that fateful night didn’t happen at all. that he’s a normal boy living a normal life. 

it works, for the most part. keeps him as close as he can get to sane. it’s good enough, until he can learn to truly bury his secret and move on. 

it works until two in the morning, when renjun is calling him. 

chenle doesn’t answer. 

renjun won’t stop calling him. renjun won’t stop sending him texts. 

chenle’s stress is getting out of hand, and jisung is getting worried again. 

“if you answered him, he’d stop blowing your phone up.”

jisung doesn’t understand. jisung still doesn’t know. 

chenle’s started crying again. 

the nightmares are back. 

jisung is smart enough to put two and two together, and no longer asks about renjun. 

chenle blocks renjun’s number. 

someone’s knocking on his door. he’s home alone. chenle doesn’t want to answer—he isn't prepared to deal with anyone right now. he just wants to be alone. 

the knocking persists. chenle's light is on, so whoever it is knows he's home. 

when, grudgingly, he finally gets up to answer it, he immediately closes the door in the visitor's face. 

he most certainly is _not_ prepared to deal with huang renjun. 

"lele, please. i just want to talk."

renjun's voice is muffled through the front door, but it still sends chills down chenle's spine. 

after all this time pretending renjun doesn't exist, and that he'll be rid of him soon if he just ignores him, chenle is reminded that was never an option. 

he lives next door. 

he's renjun. 

still, chenle turns heel and runs upstairs. turns his light off, and hides under his covers. 

renjun can continue waiting, even if it takes forever. 

chenle has to start blocking renjun on social media. he throws away letters, and tells his mother that the two aren't friends anymore when she says renjun's been asking for him. 

he feels like he's losing it. 

a few screws loosen in chenle's own brain. 

he swears he hears voices that aren't there. he twitches at small sounds. his eyes grow sallowed and sunken. his skin pales. he loses his appetite. 

he remembers jeno. 

he remembers renjun. 

it's hard to forget renjun, these days. renjun is all he can think about, no matter how hard he tries to force him from his mind. 

chenle's grades slip. 

he starts skipping school. 

spends days on end in bed, praying for all of it to just end. 

it's a week after graduation, and jisung has gone missing. 

he won't answer chenle's texts or his calls. the police hadn't started looking for him until his disappearance hit the forty eight hour mark. 

he left a note. the penmanship was foreign. 

chenle hasn't eaten in days. he goes through fainting spells. 

his phone is ringing again. 

chenle discovers that there's a place below rock bottom, and he's made a home tucked away there where no one will ever find him to pull him out. 

he's stopped screaming into his pillow, because even he doesn't want to hear himself. 

he's broken beyond repair. 

his phone is ringing. 

he doesn't answer. 

three weeks into summer, jisung still hasn't returned. 

chenle can barely stay awake, for how little he's eaten and slept. he's a zombie stalking through the halls of his house when he even bothers to get out of bed. 

his parents are worried, but at least they understand it to some extent. they know about jisung and chenle. they try to comfort chenle, but to little avail. 

three weeks without jisung. people are starting to lose hope. chenle has long lost his will to live. 

his phone is still ringing. 

this time, he decides he has nothing to lose. 

he answers. 

"meet me in the forest, lele? like we used to?"

chenle almost hangs up on renjun immediately. 

he stops. 

"i'll tell you where jisung's been hiding."

chenle hates how well he knows these trees. the trail ahead forms for him easily, seemingly out of nothing. a stranger would be lost in these woods, though chenle is anything but. 

he resents it. 

renjun's out by the treehouse again. this time, they're too big to fit inside. 

chenle remembers the squirrel. 

chenle remembers the neighbour's dog. 

chenle remembers simpler times, when renjun's worst victims were helpless animals. 

chenle remembers jeno's smile. 

it's raining. 

chenle barely recognizes renjun. 

his eyes are wild. he's unhinged. he's dangerous. 

chenle isn't afraid anymore. 

he has nothing to fear for. 

"can i show you something?"

chenle doesn't care that the rain soaks his skin and clothes. that he can hardly see for the droplets falling into his eyes. 

he doesn't feel. 

renjun's got a shovel. 

he starts digging. 

when he nears six feet, covered up to his knees in mud and slumped over from exertion, finally, he calls out to chenle. 

"beautiful, isn't it?"

half a year's repressed emotions hit chenle at once. 

he finds them again. he wails, and falls to his knees, and grasps at the mud and rocks and twigs. 

maggots consume the flesh of once full cheeks. a crow has picked out his left eye. his hair lies matted and blood stained. he's bloated, and green, and full of fluid. 

chenle no longer wonders where jisung is. he wishes it were still a mystery. 

"it can finally be just us again. like it always was, chenle. don't you remember?"

chenle's last bit of resolve breaks. he's charging renjun. he’s screaming, and pinning him to the ground, and punching and clawing at any surface his hands can reach. 

he understands renjun's burning passion for death—with his bare hands, wrapped around renjun's throat, he's ready to end it all. 

he doesn't feel what should be searing pain in his back, when renjun reaches for that old pair of rusty scissors, and stabs blindly. 

when renjun gets the upper hand, rolls chenle over to pin him to the ground and jam the blades into chenle's stomach, and chenle chokes on blood as he grabs a fist full of renjun's hair and tears at it, he still isn't aware of it. 

chenle weakens, and he's more perforated than solid, and his guts are spilling out into the mud—he's still screaming, and hitting renjun with weak fists. 

renjun wrenches the rusted metal between chenle's ribs, digs around with them and the flesh squelches, and chenle's eyes begin to cloud—finally, his limbs go limp. he's silenced. he's staring at renjun. he's choking weakly on his own blood. 

"you've... _never_—" chenle coughs, wheezing. his lungs are torn, and they hang wide open. when he inhales, air bubbles up through the pool of blood in his chest cavity. "been a good friend to me."

**Author's Note:**

> hi lsjglkd im lov renjun i promise,,,, im sorry 4 this 
> 
> anyway uwu thank u all for loving my spookfests i had so much fun!!!
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/xingowo) | [cc](https://curiouscat.me/xingowo) ♡


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